After living in San Francisco with its steady stream of noise, nights here were almost oppressively quiet—allowing far too many thoughts to swirl and plant themselves deep.
I wandered the large house, taking in the living room furniture complete with striped couches that though comfortable, clashed something awful with the floral wallpaper. My nan had been many things but an interior designer wasn’t one of them. Despite the assault on my eyes, I smiled fondly, remembering sitting with her here, catching up during one of my visits to see her.
My perusal continued through the kitchen that, though outdated, had been well maintained. My nan had taken pride in her home.
A home that was now mine.
I was still getting used to that fact two weeks later.
In the end, the decision to leave San Francisco had been easy. My job as a commercial photographer was steady, but with rents sky-high in San Francisco, I’d been struggling to make ends meet. The fact that I could do my job from almost anywhere and that I now didn’t have to worry about rent or a mortgage gave Riley and me the stability we both needed. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been financially until now. And, despite the adjustment to small-town living, I liked Hawthorne. Always had.
I climbed the steps, crested the landing, and headed for Riley’s room. I found her flat on her back, her arms and legs splayed as though she’d fought the sheets and won. Her dark hair was spread across the pillow, her expression soft with sleep. Her ever-present protector, Oscar, lay curled up at the foot of her bed where he’d slept every night since we’d moved in.
I’d belabored it enough and, with a resigned sigh, made my way to what was now my room, the master at the end of the hall. I’d bought new sheets but other than that I’d kept the room largely unchanged. It felt oddly natural to move into Nan’s room. Somehow it made me feel less alone.
I sent up a silent prayer that I could get at least a few hours of rest as I burrowed under the covers, willing my mind to quiet right along with the night outside.
“Mama.” A whisper yell and small hand shaking my arm woke me far too early the next day.
“RiRi, it’s early baby,” I mumbled, cracking an eye open to spy her staring expectantly back at me, her blue eyes wide and, unfortunately for me, wide awake. “Want to curl up with me for a while?” I invited hopefully.
She shook her head. “You said we were going for muffins this morning, ’member?”
“Yeah, baby, but not at—” I let out a groan when I saw the clock. “—five thirty.”
She’d been waking up especially early since we’d moved, sometimes crawling into bed with me in the middle of the night.
She stared at me, clearly trying to come up with a new strategy that would pull me out of bed before the sun. “How about some Sesame Street?” I bargained.
She bit her lip, deliberating before she nodded in agreement.
Thank God.
I pulled out my iPad as she climbed up into my bed, making herself comfortable as I started her show.
****
“Two chocolate-banana muffins, please,” I ordered at a much more reasonable hour later that morning. In our short time in Hawthorne, we hadn’t been out much, but Francesca’s Sweets with its delicious pastries had quickly become a favorite.
“And a large coffee for Mama?” May winked from behind the counter.
With the amount of times I’ve been in the coffee shop over the last few weeks, we were on a first-name basis.
“What was your first clue?” I laughed as Riley stood, practically quivering with excitement as she waited for me to hand over her muffin.
“Emmie!” Riley squealed excitedly, her eyes toward the door.
I turned to watch my friend approach, a broad grin on her beautiful face.
“Hi, RiRi. That’s a large coffee, Layla,” she commented with a grin and a raised brow toward me.
“This little hellion was up at five thirty,” I replied dryly.
“Enough said.” She laughed and turned her eyes to the register. “May, mind bringing me over a cup?”
“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” I commented as Em pulled up a chair. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised,” I added with a laugh. “You know everyone.”
She smiled but didn’t deny it. “May is Ryker and Piper’s daughter,” she replied, referring to another family from the club who I’d heard about but had yet to meet. “And such a hottie,” she added with a teasing grin at May.